The Clever Dragon (ASOIAF Self Insert)
by paramsilverbird
Summary: Rickard and Brandon Stark languish in prison in despair when an unexpected saviour comes to their rescue.
1. VISERYS

RICKARD

The black cells were not as dreadful as these southrons made them out to be, aye there was hardly any light and the neighbouring cellmates often screamed inhuman shrieks of pain and yet the black cells held nothing in front of the tortures of winter. The reason Rickard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North was in a sorry state was not because of these puny black cells but because of the ever constant worry over his children. His Lyanna, his poor sweet and brave she wolf of a daughter had been kidnapped by that vile prince who hid behind his good looks and royal demeanour. That curr(italic) had come to his tent during the Tourney of Harrenhal, asking for help in overthrowing his father, however in the evening he had gone on and shamed his sweet girl in front of half of the kingdom. When that curr nabbed his daughter away, his foolish yet brave son Brandon, currently occupying the cell besides him had made his way to King's Landing and gotten his Nd his friends imprisoned for his efforts. Rickard's attempt's to appeal for justice had gotten him a night in the black cells and a trail in the morning. Rhaegar must have been a cunt but he was right about one thing, the King was truly and utterly mad. His nails had grown as wildy as his hair and beard and his body was decorated with scabs. The lunatic had believe his appeal for justice as an act of treason. His mood changed wildly from extreme joy and utter crippling silence. How do these southrons keep suffering so many unstable reings. A king like that would've been taken down in the north in a couple of years, but the South was not the North, deceit and backstabbing ruled here more than justice and truthfulness, a viper den. He felt regret now, regret over his attempts to 'grow the influence of the North' in the South. Had he kept his family firmly isolated in the North, they'd be sitting happily, eating away in the Winterfell hall. Aye, they would've had lesser influence in the South, but they could've had been happy…

Pouring over regrets was the only thing Rickard was capable of currently, his throat was parched and he had not seen a single ray of lights for days on a trot, a tray of watery gruel would be passed underneath the door once in while, water less frequently than that. Beneath the dark wall, he often heard faint whails of torture the sadist gaolers would inflinct on his son and his friends sometimes. Then his blood would boil greatly, but there was hardly anything but more humiliation bought on him by banging his fist uselessly at the door. The black cells had not broken him yet, they never will, he hoped to put some sense into the Mad king come tomorrow at the trail. What must his son Ned must be going through, for all his despair Lord Rickard had not lost sense, he knew the power bloc of the Riverlands, the North and the Vale that he had painstakingly created would rise up for him if he shall die tomorrow. Perhaps Ned's friendship with the Baratheon lad may secure the Stormlands too. Lastly he thought about his littlest son Benjen, a boy still. All lonely and scared at Winterfell.

The door creaked suddenly, the mere faint streaks of light torturously blinding him, maybe it was the time for the trail. Night or day, Rickard could not tell, he had lost track of time. However out of the light came a young silver haired boy with a lone kingsguard at his back. As the child came near him, he realises it was the young prince Viserys. His eyes held a different glint to them than the scared visage of a boy hiding behind his mothers skirts that he had seen all those days ago.

"Your Grace", uttered Rickard, his throat rasping painfully.

"At ease my Lord, at ease", the young prince said.

"Your grace, what is a child like you doing out here down below, tis not a place for children."

"No it isn't", said the prince, "But circumstances often force a child to mature"

What is this boy playing at, he mused, "Circumstances like?"

At this the boy let slip a short laugh, "Circumstances like freeing you of course."

Rickard remained quiet, 'What cruel japes is the boy playing at? Has the father's madness passed down to the son?'

It was then that he notice a score of bodies lying outside and then he looked at the young blonde kingsguard's bloodied blade. He glanced at the prince again who was looking at him with a knowing look.

"Tis no time for brooding over your doubts, my Lord, time is of essence. "

The kingsguard revealed to be young Jamie Lannister, who was currently unlocking his son's cell.

Rickard looked back at the Prince and then back to the neighbouring cell.

He could only hope.


	2. HOSTER

HOSTER

The boy was an idiot. Brandon Stark. His actions were extremely rash and they threatened the Northern power bloc that Jon Arryn, Rickard Stark and lately himself had strived to create. He knew that when the boy would hear of sister's abduction, he would do something rash, as in riding straight for King's Landing along with his friends. And now all his companions were dead. Threatening the crown prince to "come out and die" was the last thing he could've had done. First he had condemned his companions to death and now their fathers too along with his own father, Rickard Stark. Truly, he regretted the day he decided to bethroth his dear Cat to the boy, but sometimes you have to think of the greater good instead of the family, even though your house words would say else. Duty came before family and it was his duty to secure the Riverlands from all kinds of trouble that would harm it's people. Almost every war waged on Westeros had a major part of it fought in the Riverlands, even if the Riverlands had minimum participation in some of those wars. He had thought he had secured the future of House Tully when he built ties with the North through Cat and had hopes to bethroth Lysa to Jaime Lannister, alas that never came to fruition. Moreover the less said about his second born was the better, it pained him immensely to kill the child out of Lysa's womb and destroy a part of her life but it had to be done. The thought of that squeaky scum Baelish bought a wave of rage swirling through his mind. His actions could have potentially lead to Lysa's womb being severely damaged for the rest of her life. But...it had to done, he wouldn't have let that lowborn Valemen marry Lysa. And to think that he had even created trouble during Cat's bethrotal, it was good that he was away. Hoster wanted to salvage what he could, especially now, Rickard Stark journey to the capital and his subsequent arrest made things difficult. The trail for Son and Father was supposed to happen soon and all Hoster could hope was for the best, he wouldn't want unfortunate circumstances like these ruin his years and years of careful planning.

Just then, the door creaked open and Brynden walked in, pulled the chair in front of Hoster's desk and sat on it.

"Well..brother, this whole alliance matter with the Starks has quite fallen on it's head has it not?", He let out a cuckle darkly.

How could he dare to make fun of such a dire situation! sometimes his brother frustrated him to no ends. And that was still nothing to speak about his refusal to settle down and marry, yet Hoster let that particular argument lay rested for another day, this was not the time nor the place.

"How could you even Jape about something like this."

"Well the castle seemed so morose this day, it could do with a little cheer, even at the expense of others and of course, it's always worth seeing your face flare up like that, brings out all the right kinds of colours to your face, Ha!"

Hoster glared at him.

Brynden kept up that grin for some infuriatingly long seconds before he seemed to come back to a grave expression and spoke, "On to more serious matters now, Cat's not taken it well you know? All the things that have happened to Lord Brandon. I care about Cat too, she may not be my own child but is a very beloved niece. What is our position now brother? Do we alert the banners or do we cancel the bethrotal and back out all together, we can still do that yet."

"Alerting the banners would be a rash move", said Hoster,"it would send the wrong message. On the other matter though, even if we back out or not any upcoming war would anyways be fought majorly in the Riverlands, doesn't matter which side we are on. It's a worrying prospect."

"Isn't there the other Stark boy? Eddard. Lad's up at the Vale, if push comes to shove, and something happens to both Brandon and Rickard we could always marry Cat to Eddard and perhaps hope for Lysa and Denys Arryn..", wondered Brynden.

"It's too early Brynden, far too early, any decision we take right now would be extremely dangerous, backing out is tempting but I would not do it. Perhaps Aerys would forgive Brandon's stupidity and release both son and father, and perhaps the matter with the crown prince and the Stark girl could be sorted out. Harrenhal should've never happened, it was all where it started, had it not been for that particular Tourney, perhaps we could have been living in happier times now. Alas all depends on the trail now and -"

The door knocked loudly and Brynden went to open it, it was Maester Vyman.

"Maester, what news?", Hoster enquired.

"A raven my lord, from the King."

"Dark wings, dark words", muttered Brynden.

Hoster ignored him, and opened the letter, his expressions went through concern, anger, bewilderment and finally, a bit of relief, although it was the feeling of a brief calm before the storm.

"You won't believe this Brynden.."

"What? whats it about?"

"Dark wings, dark words they say", muttered Hoster and then broke out in a slight smile,

"Perhaps not, this time around."


	3. JAIME

JAIME

"Aerys stop.. please…you are hurting me", screamed the Queen Rhaella in pain while Jaime Lannister went through an intense internal conflict, hearing the woeful shrieks day in, day out, seeing the bruises on the Queen's body thenext day almost made him plunge his swordinto the man he was sworn to protect. Even now, hishand was constantly shaking, hesitating between clutchingthe hilt of his fine sword, rage swirling through his mind. He had no place here, he did not sign up for this, he didn'twant to be here. All he wanted to be was to be withCersei, they had made this half-assed plan of himjoiningthe kingsguard and her becoming Queen sothatthey'll always be together…he had been stupid, therewere no gentle consoling words to explain his predicamentbut to keep on regretting. Oh had been soexcited the day he had joined the Order, his earlier dayswererepletewith his joy at training with living legends like SerGerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent, Barristan Selmy, Jonothor Darry, Lewyn Martell and most importantlythe man he looked up most to, or had, Ser Arthur Dayne. All that excitement had mellowed soon after he saw his first burning, no thanks to the Mad King. It had been a couple of lowborn kids who had stolena block of cheese from the kitchen. A simple whipping could've solved the matter, if not that then losingone hand at the most, but never had he expected themto be doused with wildfire and casualty burnt like roasting a chicken. The screams remained withhim till today, it was inhuman and monstrous, there wereno other mellower words to describe it. Yet anotheranguished scream of the Queen sent a shudderthroughout his body, all he wanted was to stormthrough the door and plunge his longsword intoAerys, take a dark delight in seeing the light disappearfrom his eyes. He couldn't do so though, the woe he'llbring on his loved ones would be immense.

"You alright Lannister?", asked Ser Jonothor, whowas sharing duty with him.

Jaime looked at him and gave a brief nod beforestaring back into the nothingness again. He gave nota shit about Darry anymore, he was a coward, all of them were, the Order of the Kingsguard was so glorified in the tales but it was nothing more than seven goons following and protecting a mad man.Goons might have been harsh, but for all their'chivalry' and skill at arms, they were almostinsensitive to the things the king did to his subjects. Chivalry meant for nothing if Darry wasn't willing tocare a whit about the woe the king brought on thepeople around him.

A man in the same armour as them came towardsthem just then, it was Barristan Selmy.

"Sers Lannister and Darry, it's mine and Ser Lewyn'stime to share duty now, Ser Darry is to take light patrol for the night while Ser Lannister will have guard duty with Prince Viserys before resting."

With a nod towards Selmy, Jaime and Darry wentthrough the corrider to their respective dutiesalthough just before Jaime turned in the direction ofthe Prince's room he felt Darry put a firm hand on hisshoulder, he turned to hear Darry speak, " You seemedvery troubled there Lannister, your hand was gripping the sword rather tightly than usual, are you alright?"

"It was the Queen Rhaella…and the King, I-I just couldn't sit still through it, h-how do you-"

Ser Jonothor interrupted, "Our duty is to guard theKing, not judge him." He had a fierce glint to his eye, almost fanatical. "Remember your oath well SerJaime, didn't Ser Gerold make that clear to you, theday the boys burned for their crimes?", He gave asqueeze to Jaime's shoulder befor going off to patrolduty. Darry was always a little bit too fanatical.

As he went towards the Prince's room, he wassurprised to see the boy standing outside his door, arms folded and looking up at him with a furious determination. Curious. The little slip of a boy hadn't shown any such signs till yesterday.

"My Prince, you must not be out at this hour, it time to sle-"

"I have been waiting for you for a long time Lannister', the Prince boomed, which was just souncharacteristic for him,'Come on, we have some work to do."

He decided to humour the brat, "Right…and what is-"

"The dungeons man!..we have some business there, release a couple of wolves and stir up the game, hehehe!"

At his puzzled look the brat groaned, "The Starks, Kingslay- oh wait that hasn't happened yet..yeah, right back to topic! We are going to the dungeons andrealising Lord Rickard and his son."

"…What..", Jaime was simply lost of words, of all the days he wanted to deal with thus madness he had hoped it not to be today." And why do you think I am going to entertain your wishes."

The brat seemed annoyed, "I swear Lannister, if you don't come along with me I'll reveal your oh-so sweet relationship with Cersei to anyone whopasses by…"

Now that stiffened him suddenly, how in the seven hells did this brat know that. Perhaps he should just kill the brat off, look at him all high and mighty as grinning at him as if he had stuck gold eventhough he himself was born of such a relationship.

"How-, no I-I don't know what you are talking about my Prince, perhaps I should just bring the Maester here and see to some dreamwine, you do seemto be having some really ludicrous dreams huh-", the annoying shit had interrupted him yet again.

"Look lannister we can either keep arguing here for the rest of the night or you come along with meand prevent another stupid war from happening, don't pretend as if you have not a care about what could happen tomorrow with Lord Rickard and his son, itcould lead to war never seen before and I am merelytrying to prevent it. So you can stand there guarding an empty room or you can come along with me and prevent a war from happening."

(A FEW MINUTES LATER)

Jaime Lannister could safely say thatagreeing to the Prince's mad idea was perhaps the worstdecisionof his life, and he had made a lot of then, they were apile long and this one was right on top of it.

As he wiped the sweat on his face and the blood of a score of goalers and guardsmen from his sword, thelittle shit came swaggering in casually steping over the other bodies, and heading to the head gaoler, "Ah, here are the keys." He stood up again an looked around gapingly before looking at Jaime with a wide grin, "My word Kingsl-Ser Jaime! 1 against 20, huh,you really are the swashbuckling badass they made you out to be in the show, just..Respect, man!" He said and held up both of his hands in a peculiar gesturebefore grinning again. "Right..with that done we moveon to finding the Stark's cells.."

On so they went through the dark passagewayignoring the occasional strange shreiks, beforefinally coming upon Rickard Stark's cell,the man seemed somewhat weakened from the giant burly northman that had come to the capital days ago, for thatweakness, his eyes still had strength in them and his demeanour was resolute. He looked obviously surprised to see the two of them in front of him.

"Your Grace", uttered Lord Stark, his throat rasping painfully.

"At ease my Lord, at ease", the young prince said.

"Your grace, what is a child like you doing out here down below, tis not a place for children."

"No it isn't", said the brat. "But circumstances often force a child to mature"

"Circumstances like?"

At this the brat let slip a short laugh, "Circumstances like freeing you of course."

Lord Stark took a lot of convincing, obviously, but heeventually relented. Viserys then handed the keys toBrandon Stark's cell in his hands, "Go on free him too."

As Jaime went about the task, a painful thought kept screaming woefully in his mind.

He so did not sign up for this!

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	4. RICKARD

RICKARD

He didn't know what to say about Prince Viserys nor did he have a clue about his motives. He was grateful to him nonetheless. Although the niggling thought at the back of his mind kept reminding him that an 8 namedays old slip of a child simply shouldn't have the intellect to the things the Prince had done. Nevertheless, Rickard shoved those thoughts for the future, there were more important things to focus on right now. The Lannister kingsguard had freed his son Brandon from his cell and his appearance worried Rickard greatly. Gone was the cheerful demeanour and the handsome face, there were bruises all along his face and his whole body appeared far thiner than before. Just what had they done to his son? He consoled himself with the thought that at the very least, his son still had that glint in his eyes for a desire of revenge. He came up to Brandon and embraced him fiercely, they said no words, none were needed, such gestures were enough.

"So', said Lannister,'what now?"

"Now, we get the hell out of this place", intoned the Prince.

"Wait a minute, where do you think you are going, my prince?"

"Believe me Lannister, by the morning the King will raise a shitstorm and let's face it, he's a madman-"

"You shouldn't say those things about your own father, your grace", intoned Rickard.

"Why not, I know what he is and the world will be a better place without him, besides what do you think will happen now, Lord Rickard, saving you was the saner thing to do, but the shitstorm-'

The Prince had a disgusting mouth for someone his age

'- my actions will awaken is something I am well aware of, what do you think my father will do after he hears of your escape, by now I am sure your other son has at the very least alerted his banners, the war will come even if we try to prevent it, my father is a insane paranoid, he sees enemies and plots everywhere and this maybe very well the tipping point. And I don't want to be here to witness it, No, I'll come with you and-"

Lannister jumped in to say," And why do you think I'm going to let you go with them, your grace, the consequences would be grave, if that happens."

The Prince looked at Lannister and said,"You can come with us if you want to, be my sworn shield or something like that-oh no don't go on about those oaths, I know you wanted to leave the service the day you heard my Mother getting raped by my father, while you yourselve were helplessly standing guard, unable to do anything.."

Lannister seemed alarmed and so did Rickard, he didn't know about the Queen's predicament but this simply wasn't the sort of things to be heard from a little boy, the Prince was simply so strange, it was like hearing the words of a grown up trapped in a child's body.

Lannister seemed to be in a dilemma when Brandon enquired about his companions," What about Elbert Arryn and the rest of the lot, they must be somewhere here, we must free them too."

Rickard had a intuition that something terrible was to be revealed next, and he was right.

The prince had a sad expression on his face but Lannister showed no such hesitation replying,"They are dead, killed shortly after their arrest, I don't remember the manner of their execution but at the very least it was not by wildfire."

His son seemed to shudder after hearing the news before simmering with a visible rage,"All of them?"

"Not all of them, Chelstead surprising begged the King to spare a young boy, said it was inhuman to kill a boy so young."

"Young…', his son mulled over the words,'it must certainly be my squire, Ethan...Ethan Glover, we must save him, it's the least I can do in the memory of Elbert and the rest, they came with me because they believed in me, where is his cell, we must release right now."

"I am sorry", the Prince seemed genuinely saddened,"But we can't, there simply is no time to spare."

His son appeared to reply with a heated word or two but Rickard put a firm hand on his shoulder, escaping with leaving his squire behind was not honourable, but it was needed to be done for the future of House Stark. Brandon reluctantly quieted down after, the gesture.

As he led the Prince by the shoulder, Brandon tagging behind them, the enigmatic little lad looked behind to Lannister and said,"You should really come along you know.."

Lannister appeared to hesitate when a voice suddenly cut in menacingly," Come along to where?"

The prince looked terrifed as a Kingsguard emerged from the shadows along with a couple of Targaryen guards, the boy turned to Lannister,"Who is that?"

"Darry", hissed Lannister,"He was on patrol duty."

"And you convinently forgot to mention that, I suppose?", let out Viserys.

"What do we have here,the Prince, two traitors and a potential oathbreaker", Darry sneered.

"Your grace…go", said Lannister

"You know what Jaime, this the shittiest time to show your bravado, perhaps we can still escape togh-"

Rickard grabbed the boy by his shoulders, even with his still cheery was exterior, the boy seemed terrified right now, that was perhaps the most normal thing the boy had done so far, acting like the child that he really was. " Bravado it might be, your grace, but he is right, we must go, now."

As Darry crept closer alongwith the guardsmen, Lannister unsheated his sword, glanced back towards the Prince once before letting out,"For all the annoying shit you seemed to be today, you are by far the most sane of your family that I have met, Farewell your grace, go on, 'save the world', or whatever that means", he said before going forward to meet Darry in battle.

Rickard didn't stay to witness the Young Lion's skill, he took the Prince's hand and sped off through the other end of the corridor, as they were seemingly descending down, the Prince stopped dead in his tracks.

"Perhaps, we should go back, save Jaime."

Brandon threw a frustrated look to the boy,"Didn't you just say we have no time, we should be be going towards the gates, now!"

"And what do you know of King's Landing, Darry is not a foolish man, he had alerted the Keep guardsmen, the City Watch must be on alert eitherway, thats not my point though, saving Jaime brings us in good grace with Lord Tywin, say a war really did break out would you like to be with him or against him?"

"The Prince has a point son, I don't completely agree with him but he's right, moreover the only person who has a clue about how to weave through this city is the Lannister lad, it's the most rational thing to do."

Brandon cut a frustrated figure as he said," We don't even have swords."

"Take some from the fallen guardsmen that Lannister felled earlier."

And so they went back upstairs to see Lannister greatly struggling against Darry, he had somehow fended off one guard, slicing his whole limb off, with the guard retreating back towards the entrance in agony, while Darry intensified his barrage of slashes furthermore.

Thankfully for Lannister, his weakened self and his son were enough to subdue Darry, the latter might have been one of the best swordsmen in the Kingdom, but he couldn't expect to fend off three highly trained combatants.

They killed the other guardsmen and sooner Darry was brought on his knees when Brandon slashed low on his knees, lodging halfway through his bones, the kingsguard didn't scream out in agony, but he appeared pained nonetheless, when he knelt down Brandon switfly followed up by severing his head of his shoulder while Lannister looked on in shock.

"Why..did..you come back", said the young lad in between exhausted breaths.

"T'was the prince, said something about being in your father's favours", replied Brandon.

"You must come with us now, Lannister, the king will not let you live after Darry's death."

CLANG!!CLANG!! CLANG!!

"What was that?",Brandon said as he looked around.

"The bells of the Great Sept', murmured Lannister and the looked towards the entrance to find the mutilated guard missing.

Rickard seemed to know what Jaime meant to utter next,"Aye, that man went and alerted his brother in arms, along with the city watch by the looks of it."

Brandon suffled off to the extremely small window adjacent outside entrance door and came visibily pale,"There are about two score men gathering outside."

Lannister unsheated his sword and wondered,"Perhaps we should fight and-"

"Are you insane Lannister? or do you not know your numbers properly, there are about a fourty men coming from each side of the corrider, each of them hardbred men at arms, not the puny goalers you boasted about killing in dozens", remarked Brandon.

"Are you afraid to fight, Stark?", taunted the kingsguard

"I have had more fights than the number of hairs on your chest, a good fighter knows when to back down and admit it's impossible and right now it very much is impossible."

While his Son and Lannister bickered with each other Rickard swore he heard the little Prince murmuring something along the lines of ,"But where did Varys take Tyrion through…the fourth level..ah yes..!"

"Listen!, Everyone turned to look at the Prince as he spoke,' I read it in a book from the keep library that there is another level below this one, a seldom used level of the black cells known to few, there's a tunnel at the end of it which leads to a defunct Fleabottom sewage which further leads to it ceasing outside the city walls, perhaps it will work!"

"Long shot even if possible, said Brandon before he heard the rapid footsteps descending down the building,' but then again there's no other choice."

And so they went further below, Lannister adding to their ranks this time, they reached a blocked door soon, Brandon and Lannister broke down the door to find nothing but complete darkness on the other side, along with a familiar smell, the smell of death and torture. Where the black cells had failed to frighten him, Rickard felt a slight shudder go through. The darkness, smell and silence was defeaning and terrifying. It seemed straight out of the tales of the Dreadfort flaying chambers which Old Nan would say to him when he was a kid.

"I can't see a thing', muttered Lannister,'and where's this tunnel now, your grace?"

"Straight..we go straight', guided the Prince,' to another hole blocked by a rock."

And so they went further in a straight line with Brandon at the foremost, himself and the Prince in the middle and Lannister at the rear, he could feel all four of them were unnerved by this fourth level, they dared not step even a foot sideways but straight.

They finally reached the end of the level, a solid wall, the boys felt around the wall for a rock and the Prince discovered it by his feet, they moved the rock blocking it to reveal the tunnel and it really was there!

"My word! your grace, exactly which book did you read?", exclaimed the Lannister

"That does not matter now lads', he felt himself muttering,"Not a word till we reach the other end of the tunnel."

A tunnel it barely was, a hole more like, only a dwarf could perhaps stand upright through it, or a boy, like the Prince, the others swore at the pain in their backs but went further nonetheless, Brandon was at front again and almost fell down a deep hole inside the tunnel itself, it seemed the tunnel went much further than it seemed, thankfully though, there was a ladder and they went down it with Rickard firmly holding Viserys to make sure he didn't fall off.

Their ordeal was finally over after descending down the ladder to another crawlspace before reaching what seemed like an intersection of sewage tunnels.

As they looked around, Lannister asked the Prince,"I thought you said we'd see Fleabottom by the end of it, but what is this place?"

The Prince had no words for either of them, He seemed confused as he said,"Did we miss an entrance, somewhere along the ladder?"

"Please no", groaned Lannister,"Spare me, for the love of the Seven, I would prefer not to go back though that shithole trying to find another hole."

"Well, this…is an intersection, by the looks of it, two sewage entrances on right and left, believe me Jaime, our odds of finding that other hole again are better", said the Prince.

Brandon seemed dead tired when he added his piece,"You know what, let's just take the right one, I would prefer anything next to standing in this pile of shit." And with that he moved forward into the entrance on the right side, Viserys following behind him confidently enough while Lannister hesitated between looking at the duo and at Rickard, perhaps hoping the eldest one in the group could give some sage wisdom. But for the life of him Rickard simple didn't know what to do other than hope to the old gods and new that they'd get out of this den of vipers somehow. He ignored Lannister and followed his son through the right sided entrance, the boy finally sighing exhaustedly and following behind.

As they treaded through the sewage, the golden haired kingsguard fell in step with him, his expression was exhausted. He looked at Rickard and exclaimed,"I wish I didn't sign up for this."

He himself agreeing,"So do I."

(FEW MINUTES LATER)

Rickard was pleasantly surprised when the came out of the entrance to find the walls of the city, just few paces behind.

"Gods, Stark! You were right!"

"We still have no horses."

"I know a village nearby…"

As their conversation continued, Rickard looked towards the Young Prince, who was looking towards Rickard with a tired but broad grin on his face.

He could find only two words to express his gratitude,

"Thank you."

 **XXXXX** ** _PLEASE REVIEW AND THANKS FOR READING!_**


	5. AERYS, JON

CHAPTER 5

AERYS

The corpse of Ethan Glover burned in the Hall of the King's Court. The smell of the burning body sickened everyone inside the hall but the King himself. The hand, Chelstead was murmuring something about it being all dishonourable-, well Aerys couldn't care less, traitors had threatened his rule, they had escaped justice and had the tenacity to kidnap his son along with absconding themselves. Well, they forgot one of their companions, Brandon Starks squire, the Glover boy. Ah, his screams were pure pleasure for the King.

He was not at all surprised to hear of Tywin's boy escaping with the traitors, he had always known that Tywin's brood were filled with treasonous currs. Oh well, he would enjoy separating the boy's head from his shoulder. Perhaps he would send it to the Rock later. It would be fitting punishment for the arrogant Lion, wouldn't it?

The wolves had come howling about some 'unjust crime' done to them. Bah! he was ashamed of the dullard who he called his son, boy couldn't even steal a girl properly. What was unjust in the whole matter? Dragon's do as they like and a Dragon answers to no one! To none!

As the final embers of the wildfire drowned out, he could feel his dragon rising, well, time to go to his useless bitch wife with her rotten womb which had destroyed so many of his dragon heirs, she should be honored he was still spending time with her instead of screeching every time he touched her. But then, he really did like the screams too!

As he made to go to Rhaella's solar Chelstead had the nerve to stop him,"Y-your grace, the P-prince Viserys?", squeaked the newly made Hand of the King.

The scab king turned back to face his hand and commanded,"Ah, yes.. send a letter to my loyal Bannermen all over the kingdoms, send word of the traitor's deeds and bring my son back to me."

As the Hand nodded and sped away, Aerys looked around the court to look at all the traitors assembled there, they were all traitors, everyone of them. They were scared traitors at the very least and Aerys had nothing to fear from them. He liked to see their scared visages, their agonized expressions that they did well to hide. The King had found himself liking such things since he had come back from Duskendale.

He took one last glare at his traitorous subjects and then headed off to his bitch sisters solar, he would relish in her agony tonight.

By the moon's end he would have his son back and the traitor's seen to justly.

And then, the Dragon would rise again.

XXXXX

JON

The Eyrie had been eerily quiet for much of the past days. Admittedly though there wasn't much to cheer about. The hard work he had put through building the Northern Alliance so meticulously with the Starks and the Tullys was crumbling apart due to actions he would have had never anticipated. It was a shame that he was even surprised by Rhaegar's actions, it was common knowledge that every time a Targaryen was born, the question of insanity was always but a coins toss away. To think that Rhaegar would be on the sane side was a mistake on his part. Even then he had doubts about Lyanna Stark's motives too whether the girls was really kidnapped or went on her own was a question where he more than often came to the opinion that perhaps it was the latter although he would never voice it in public lest he dismay his two almost-sons Robert and Ned.

Robert had been crushed they he heard of the abduction, punching his fists against the wall and demanding to march out for war then and there while Ned's icy face had showed some real agony for a while before it went to an even harder visage. Both of them were baying for blood now. But Jon wouldn't go to war unless he was sure of the outcome.

His bannermen were hesitant to raise their banners with Grafton and Corbray being the most vocal against it. Jon could understand their dilemma, the Arryns were one of the most loyal vassals the Dragons could count on when needed. Turning against them was one thing for hesitancy, winning against them required a completely different level of courage and confidence.

But the tables had turned.

Oh, they so had turned right into his favour. Where there was once desperate optimism regarding Lord Rickard's fate, the latest raven had filled him with a new sense of confidence. The letter read,

"All of the King's loyal bannermen are hereby instructed to put their efforts into nabbing the three traitors by the name of Lord Rickard Stark, Brandon Stark and the Oathbreaker Kingsguard Ser Jaime Lannister who have abducted his Grace's royal son, the Prince Viserys, the King expects his vassals to raise their banners and march to battle to apprehend the traitor's and their territories.

The King has also demanded Lord Eddard Stark to come to King's Landing to answer for his family's crimes. His Grace assures that the traitors will be brought to justice and his reign will be more peace shall prevail again.

King Aerys II Targaryen,

Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men."

This changed a lot of things, wondered Jon. He promptly ordered his men to summon his wards to his solar.

As Robert and Ned filtered in and looked surprised to see the broad grin on Jon's face.

Ned was the first to speak up,"What's the matter my lord, news of my father?"

"Indeed."

"What happened? did the King pardon Brandon?"

"He, didn't."

Ned looked bewildered to see the grin still on his face. The boy was utterly confused and Jon didn't wanted to torture him further. He handed both of them the parchment from King's Landing.

Ned broke out into a visibly relieved face while Robert looked back up puzzled and said,"B-but this doesn't make sense, why would the Lord Rickard abduct Prince Viserys?"

Aye, that was a curious move, Jon knew Rickard wasn't the sort to chase some abstract form of revenge by abducting Viserys as a reply for Rhaegar's actions with Lyanna. It was curious move indeed, all though it could be thought on later.

"It doesn't matter Robert and certainly doesn't change the plans I had laid out for such a situation."

"And what situations would those be?", enquired Ned.

"I had planned to raise my banners should your sire's death reach our ears along with requesting the both of you to raise your banners too. By the Seven's grace Lord Rickard's escape has blessed us immensely, coupled with the fact by the possibility of using the Prince as a hostage. Perhaps even Lord Tywin would help us…No, I'm rambling too much, Rickard may have escaped but he hasn't come home yet. There's no advantage to us till your father reaches his allies safely."

Ned looked worried when he replied," So what now, where do we go from here?"

Jon stood up from his study and placed a hand on both of his wards shoulder and said,"Now we fight, we raise our banners and hope to crush our opponents by the sheer force of the Wolf, the Stag and the Falcon."

"AYE!, we'll fight and crush that Dragonspawn", boomed Robert with his usual vigour for the first time in a long while.

He looked at both his sons and hoped they could prevail.

 ** _XXXXXXX_**

 ** _HEY GUYS, I NOTICED A FEW GRAMMER MISTAKES IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS, IT WAS MOSTLY BECAUSE OF THE BUGS IN THE APP I'M USING TO PUBLISH THIS STORY, THERE WEREN'T AS MANY MISTAKES IN THE ORIGINAL DRAFT. AS ALWAYS, THANKS FOR READING AND DO REVIEW_**


	6. JAIME II

JAIME

"I'm hungry", he found himself muttering.

"So are we all, Lannister", replied an annoying voice.

He was greatly irked with the person who the voice belonged to. For all his gregariousness Brandon Stark seemed frankly a short witted person. He could only imagine a few people who would come barging into the Red Keep demanding Prince Rhaegar's head. Although it was not entirely Stark's fault, Jaime found himself getting angry over every little thing these days, perhaps it was the raging hunger coursing through him.

After escaping the city they had ran briskly for a while before encountering a village Jaime knew existed near the King's Landing. He had to discard his armour and sell it to buy the horses, of course he couldn't sell the whole set as to not arouse suspicion. They had to throw the Kingsguard breastplate somewhere in the jungle much to Jaime's regret. Then on, they had to survive on wild berries and fruit on through the Kingswood. Game was plenty but they couldn't risk their time hunting for it.

Jaime looked on to the prince who was sitting on a small log by the small fire they had lit up to keep themselves warm. The boy had seemed pale of late which was understandable with the kind of food they had been eating. Although it was not the Prince's condition that Jaime was thinking hard on but all of the utterly ridiculous things that had happened ever since he had happened on the Prince's solar. Viserys was mature, far too mature for someone his age and it seemed to put Jaime on edge for some reason. The Stark lords thought him to be some kind little Prince with a good heart but he had known how the Prince acted before that fateful day. Always hiding behind his mothers skirts, a whimpering little child with none of that resilience he was showing in these conditions. He had not complained even once throughout their hard journey, he didn't speak as much as he did that day before the escape nor did he even once lament about the hunger that was consuming all of them. He would sometimes observe Lord Rickard looking at him with the same curious gaze. Why had the Prince rescued the Starks? Did he even know of the repercussions of his actions? War was inevitable when Rhaegar kidnapped Lady Lyanna, but the kind of war would no doubt prevail over Westeros after the Starks return was hard to think about without shuddering.

"What are we going to do now father?", enquired Brandon, interrupting Jaime's thoughts midway.

When Lord Rickard looked at his son with a blank look, Brandon expanded,"I-I mean how are we going to go ahead now, where are we going to go for shelter, surely not all the way to the north like this!"

Rickard seemed to contemplate for a while before replying,"Perhaps the Tullys, but even then I doubt whether they can provide us with protection, Hoster has always been a careful man and I won't begrudge him for putting his family's safety above us, perhaps Prince Viserys's presence may be helpful but even then I'm highly in doubt.."

Jaime opined,"Perhaps we could go to the Wester-"

"No, lad', cut in Lord Rickard sternly,'your father is more cunning than Hoster, without a solid alliance, he'll most likely keep you and the Prince and turn me and my son over back to Aerys, besides it's far too away from here."

Jaime fought back a scathing reply. His father wasn't as cruel as they made him out to be, or so Jaime thought. He wondered what his Lord Tywin would think about his current actions. Had he inadvertently put his family in danger? Sure the West couldn't be invaded from the east but it could surely be attacked from the South by the reach. He missed his Cersei and wanted to do nothing but go back to her sweet embrace. He missed Tyrion too, his funny little brother.

Prince Viserys tried to assure the Starks," Perhaps the Tullys would take us in, isn't Lord Brandon betrothed to Lady Catelyn, and with my presence with you, he would no doubt be compelled to give us guest right."

"Aye, you may be right, your grace, perhaps that's the best option, said Lord Stark gruffly.

"If you don't mind me asking, your grace, how will you be going about ahead if we reach safety to the Tullys, I still doubt your decision to come with us, you could've just left us on our way and let us escape by ourselves, you could've have been safer that way."

The boy fumbled about a bit, searching for words before saying,"I-I just couldn't my lord, it may be harsh to say this of my own father but he really is as mad as they say he is.. I used to wander the around the Red Keep when I chanced around-'

Huh, that was strange. He was mostly on guard duty to the boy and he never came out of his solar without his mother.

-a conversation between one of the pyromancers and my father, they were talking about placing wildfire caches all throughout the city-'

Wait. What!

-it was then that I understood how mad he could be, A king burning his own city, have you ever imagined anything like it?"

Lord Stark and his son looked shocked and so did He. By the Seven, the king was more crazier than he ever thought he could be.

"And that's not to say about the time when he started to tell me to stop following my brother around became according to him Rhaegar was plotting for his throne."

At those words Lord Stark's face went momentarily blank as if remembering something before the rage returned to his face

"But he was indeed plotting behind his back, your grace."

Viserys appeared surprised before Rickard continued,"He sent a letter to me before Harrenhal asking for support to 'peacefully' overthrow his father, I pledged him my support after hearing about your father's condition from Lord Arryn. Rhaegar seemed a noble man then. And then he disgraced and made off with my daughter."

There was an awkward silence after that, the Prince looked awfully apologetic but couldn't find any words, some awkward conversations were made before the Lord Stark called for everyone to lie down and sleep for the night.

XXXXX

Jaime opened his eyes to bright sunshine and forced himself up as his muscles creaked due to the excuse of a bed he had slept on last night. It wasn't even a bed actually, just the mud floor, exhaustion had made him fine with sleeping anywhere as long as he got some good shuteye.

Rickard was already up and so was Brandon, the two had made a bed made by leaves and other riff raff they could find in the forest last night to make the boy comfortable as they felt some kind of gratitude towards him. He was still sleeping comfily in that awful excuse of a bed.

He was asked to wake the Prince which he did after which the four sat down for some more berries for breakfast.

"Where are we right now?" asked Brandon.

"Somewhere near the Saltpans I reckon, we carefully avoided Maidenpool a couple of days ago. Next up is Darry, we should be careful there, we have already killed one of them and they are fanatical royalists too."

Darry, damned Darry, sighed Jaime internally, Darry was bad news. And he had thought they'd get some calm after days of rough riding.

They hadn't taken the obvious way to Harrenhal as they suspected royal patrols on the road. They'd rounded off from Rosby to Duskendale eventually Maidenpool and now Darry after Which they'd head west to Stone Hedge hoping the Brackens would be gracious before eventually on to Riverrun.

After breakfast Lord Stark put him on to work for more finding more Berries to last through the day and he grumbled as went into the forest again. He dare didn't defy Rickard Stark.

As he went in search of food a humorously ironic thought headed his way, he was a Kingsguard not a week ago and now, look where he was finding berries. What a shame. Perhaps they'd call him the Berry lion. Gods! Tyrion would never stop calling him that.

XXXXX

After a few hours of berry picking, he headed back the path to the camp before stopping abruptly as a chill went through him, something felt wrong, awfully wrong, to be fair he had thought Brandon would come calling for him as he had spent far too long scavenging for berries, but he didn't. Usually Jaime would blame his tired mind for the paranoia but today just did not felt like that day.

He clutched his sword tightly in his hand as he crept carefully.

"To think I would find you band of traitors.."

Jaime heard a voice in the distance along with clangs of steel and definitely indicated some sword fighting.

"You would be given justice you damned barbarians.."

Now Jaime sped through the pathway

"Perhaps I should just kill your son for the insult you dealt the king, the king wouldn't mind all that much you know."

Jaime ran faster

"Please don't." He heard a little voice squealing.

He came to the clearing to find three men overpowering Brandon while a fourth one was taking his blade out of his sheath. A Darry Knight on a horse stood threatening Lord Rickard while a couple more men fought the old man. Another Darry cronie was dragging Prince Viserys towards the Knight who was looking surprised at the resistance of the little boy.

Then Jaime's gaze fell back to the sword rapidly being raised upwards in the air, about to swing down on Brandon.

One moment Jaime had instinctively raised his own blade and the next moment he had rammed it through the man's neck. The other cronies were startled and crept back, Jaime utilised the pause to get Brandon back up and place his blade in his hands again.

He felt the Darry Knight speaking,"My…is it an Oathbreaker I see there, so the rumours were true, a Kingsguard Knight did go along with these traitors while kidnapping a royal Prince."

"They didn't kidnap me!" screamed the Prince, "Let them go!"

The Darry Knight looked curiously at the Prince before looking back at him.

"What spell have you woven around the Prince, traitors?"

"The boy came along with us, we didn't kidnap him", implored Lord Rickard.

"And you expect me to believe that', cuckled the Knight,"I am Marq Darry, brother to Lord Raymun and in the name of the King-'

"Marq Darry…never heard of you, frankly there are so many of you that it's hard to count",taunted Jaime, he wanted to get Darry coming towards him away from his safe position as he spoke next," We even killed one from your flock on our way out."

An angry visage crossed the Knights face as he strangled out,"What?"

"Seems like you haven't heard your news properly, Ser Jonothor was so puny I doubt how he even got into the Kingsguard."

Tyrion always said he had a talent for pissing people off.

"In fact, he died screaming when we took his puny head off."

The Knight charged at him with a roar, just as he expected.

Jaime hoped Brandon would take care of the cronies while he faced Darry. Brandon seemed to be doing just fine, for the moment at least.

As the Knight came trotting down slashing his sword Jaime deftly spun around dodging the slash while expertly cutting the rear legs of the animal as it staggered before collapsing and throwing the knight his back. Marq Darry staggered to stand but the fall had winded him and he lamely tried to parry Jaime's slashes before succumbing to vicious swing at the waist. As Jaime went to finish the man he heard an anguished scream and Brandon yelling out to his father who had been dealt a savage thrust through his stomach. Brandon's momentary distraction result in him also losing his dominance over the one remaining man he had to fend off. The swordsman slashed at Brandon's thigh which caused him fall down and get a sword pointed at his neck while his comrade aimed a finishing blow on Lord Stark.

Jaime suddenly found himself facing two difficult choices in whether to save son or father. He didn't think the duo would be bested so easily. But the long travel and the poor food had done no good for them. That was why Lord Stark had fallen so quickly against some lowborn swordsman.

As Jaime hesitated the man raised his sword up high and aimed down at the heavily bleeding Lord who seemed resigned to die when suddenly a knife emerged from the lowborn's stomach, bloodily coming out the other side. The man coughed up blood and turned around to see the Prince standing there shuddering from the blood on his hands. The man had shock etched on his face, he uttered an aghast "M'prince" before falling down.

Jaime took advantage of the only remaining mans slight look to the other side to swing high and cleave his head right off.

He found himself exhausted. Dead exhausted. Wasn't really a surprise considering his condition wasn't much better than the others although he didn't feel any of it during the battle.

He looked towards Lord Stark who seemed close to unconsciousness, the little Prince was doing his best to stem the blood flow but it wasn't working. Jaime couldn't move, he felt so exhausted, he could fall down any moment, Brandon was lying on the ground holding his thigh while screaming his name and pointing behind him.

Jaime turned around quickly to see find that Marq Darry had somehow pushed his bloody self up and was only a hand breadth away from thrusting his knife through Jaime. A bloody smile smelling of revenge on his slowly dying face.

And yet Jaime couldn't move.

The dagger came closer and now was only inches away when he registered several hooves and men entering through.

Fresh blood splashed on his face. It wasn't his thankfully as Marq Darry's head was rolling on the ground. Jaime staggered and collapsed because of the sudden motions. In his rapidly blurring vision he bleakly saw a trout banner and about twenty men led by a man with a black trout on his armour.

He faintly heard the Knight say, "You lot seemed fucked up!"

And then the Berry Lion's vision blacked out.

 **XXXXXX**

 ** _THANKS FOR READING AND DO REVIEW!_**


	7. RHAEGAR

RHAEGAR

He looked wistfully out of the sole window on the Tower of Joy.

It had been a bad couple of days.

His new bride, who had come with him cheerfully enough was now resisting his every advance. When he told Lyanna about Lord Rickard and Brandon's captivity in King's Landing, the girl suddenly didn't wanted to continue their affair any longer, she had cunningly tried to escape the tower and had almost made it before his Kingsguard captured her and brought her back. When he went to meet her she laid near his feet and begged him to let her go but he wouldn't.

He couldn't do that. Not before his Visenya could be born.

And so he went through that process of impregnating the third head of the dragon while Lyanna kicked, scratched and bit at him. He had to bring Ser Gerold and Ser Arthur to hold her down so that he could complete his deed. She lay there crying when he was finished. His assurances of all luxuries that he would give to her seemed to be fall on deaf ears as she never spoke back to him ever again.

When he came out the room, Arthur looked at him with thinly veiled anger that only Rhaegar could recognise in him. Ser Oswell had heard the screams from outside and refused to look at him. Ser Gerold, ever the dutiful man said nothing and went on with his duty.

Rhaegar was not a bad man. He was not. He was not his father….Or was he?

He shrugged that thought away vehemently, even though a small part of his mind pointed out the similarities between what his mother endured and what he had just done to Lyanna.

But it had to be done. No one would understand it but himself. The world needed to be saved and only the three headed dragon could prevent it.

"Your Grace", interrupted Ser Gerold pointing at the distant dunes.

It was a rider.

When the man on the horse alighted near them he gave Rhaegar a parchment from the nearby holdfast before departing again. He opened it to see the following proclamation of the King.

 _"All of the King's loyal bannermen are hereby instructed to put their efforts into nabbing the three traitors by the name of Lord Rickard Stark, Brandon Stark and the Oathbreaker Kingsguard Ser Jaime Lannister who have abducted his Grace's royal son, the Prince Viserys, the King expects his vassals to raise their banners and march to battle to apprehend the traitors and their territories._ _The King has also demanded Lord Eddard Stark to come to King's Landing to answer for his family's crimes. His Grace assures that the traitors will be brought to justice and his reign will be more peace shall prevail again._ _King Aerys II Targaryen,_ _Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men."_

XXXX

The Tower of Joy was alive with the argument between four people. Rhaegar and his three Kingsguard all bickering heatedly. Upon informing the trio about the letter, Ser Gerold was adamant to depart to the capital and so was Arthur but while they silently argued Rhaegar worried about the bigger picture and the inevitable future.

The Starks would surely rebel now. Especially after the treatment his father had given them. No doubt they will be unknowingly joined by the Westerlands the minute Ser Jaime's name appeared as a traitor. The news from the Vale was disconcerting too. Jon Arryn was rumoured to have sent his two wards, Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon to gather their banners. And in the middle of it all was his brother Viserys, how the traitors even managed to kidnap his little sibling would remain a great mystery.

Rhaegar was in despair. He had a plan. A peaceful plan. He could had made peace with Lord Stark, there was no need for violence, all he wanted from Lyanna was his Visenya and then she could go to anywhere she wanted. Live an 'adventurous life' or whatever she had foolishly said at Harrenhal. The girl was naive and disillusioned and Rhaegar definitely didn't plan on making her his second wife. She had made some noises about marriage when they were passing near the God's Eye but he had quashed it down as soon as she had uttered it with some gentle words.

His foolish father had destroyed his years of planning and now there will be a war. A terrible one, Rhaegar feared it would be as he was absolutely certain the rebels would use Viserys as some kind of nominal reason for grabbing power and then when he had defeated them, he would have no choice but to exile his brother to keep his children safe. He pitied his brother greatly.

He went up the stairs back to the tower to the three Sers who quieted their silent debate upon his arrival. Ser Gerold hastened to speak,"Your grace, we must make haste for Kings-"

"No Ser Gerold', he interrupted," I have already decided. Ser Oswell shall remain here guarding Lyanna. Ser Arthur will make the journey to Sunspear to negotiate with the Martells to raise their banners and you shall do the same at Highgarden."

"Your grace, what you are thinking about is high treason."

"I know Ser Gerold, but frankly treason is more affordable than risking losing a prophecy that will save the world."

His old friend Ser Arthur grabbed his shoulders firmly before muttering,"I don't believe a word of your prophecy, I hope you know what you are doing. I will go to Sunspear and do my duty but only a fool would believe the Martells would even fight for you given what you did to Elia. Nor do I approve what you are doing to the Northern Lady. And yet, I'll do my duty."

Rhaegar sighed. His friend was far too simple, he refused to see the big picture, nobody did. But they would see one day when the three headed dragon would rise again. Rhaegar wouldn't let so many doubts about the prophecy let him down now. He had come uo a path he couldn't go back and he knew that. What he did to Lyanna was regrettable but it was needed. Besides her father had no reason to come down south to complain. He should have had been happy his daughter would birth the son of a dragon, that she had the honor of even laying with him. A Dragon can do anything and he doesn't have to answer to everyone, certainly not wolves.

He hoped Mace Tyrell would be smart enough to answer his call, he may even consider any Tyrell girl for Aegon's queen.

Taking leave of his guards he went inside to see the naive girl he had to tolerate for his third head.

Lyanna was silent as she had lately been. Alone in her cell. Despondent and facing the wall. Her lone chambermaid had quietly passed on the news that the girl had not had her moon blood for quite some time which was extremely good news.

"Lyanna", he uttered trying to be polite.

She turned towards him with a barely concealed glare.

He placed the king's parchment in her hands which she read and broke into a smile since…he couldn't really even remember, she hadn't really smiled a few days into the Tower of 'Joy'.

He didn't know how to convey to the poor girl that he would no doubt have to kill her whole family for their sins. He hated to see her smile die down.


	8. RICKARD II

RICKARD

He felt himself drowning. He tried to swim up towards the few specks of dawn showing above but something held him back, pulled him down and Rickard Stark came to brief consciousness amidst immense pain. His vision was blurry and his throat as dry as the deserts of Dorne. He saw his surrounding and found it to be a closed room on a featherbed, four blurry figures and a little child were standing next to his sleeping form. He felt himself screaming aloud due to the wracking pain coursing through him. He felt a person come near him and forcibly pour a white liquid down his throat that suspiciously tasted a lot like the milk of the poppy. His vision blacked and he felt himself drowning again.

XXXX

"My lord, you must not be awake! ", he heard a voice call out as his eyes shot open again. He was on the shore for only a brief while and then he was dragged back into the sea as his vision blacked and yet he struggled and fought with the pain and soon came back to the dawn. As his eyes shot open a horror greeted his sight as he looked down to see his lower body covered with blood. The figure sitting next to him bought a burning instrument to his wound and then he screamed louder than he had before. He screamed and screamed till the creature in his dreams pulled him back into the sea and into unconsciousness.

XXXX

The pain had subsided as he felt himself opening his eyes to faint streaks of sunlight entering into the room from a window beside him. The person sitting next to him wasn't the maester this time but the man in the black trout armour who had come to save them.

He made to speak but no sound came forth till he struggled to utter, "W-wa-water-"

The man shot up to attention and brought a waterskin to his lips. Rickard made the mistake of drinking up hungrily and paid for it when he spluttered and the man had to serve him in small sips. As his vision cleared he came to the realisation that the man in front of him was none other than the famed knight, Brynden 'Blackfish' Tully.

He felt himself enquiring, "B-brandon?.."

"He's alright my lord, a few scratches here and there but nothing a few days of rest couldn't heal. There's the little prince and his kingsguard knight too alongside him. Care to explain how that came about? "

Rickard sighed, "It's a bloody long story. "

"Ha! I bet it is, no need to say it now, it's time to rest, my lord. "

After saying that, the Ser made towards the door while a servant made his way in carrying a plate of food for breakfast. As Ser Brynden was about to leave, he requested Rickard to join him and Lord Hoster for dinner together. After whatever Hoster had done for them, the least he could do was accept the invitation and he did so gladly.

XXXX

It was a while later when he was lying in bed resting when the door knocked and in came his son, Ser Jaime and Prince Viserys.

"Father! "

"Brandon, I wish I could get up and hug you but I fear it will be a few days before I can manage that", he replied.

As his son came to sit near him he looked over at Ser Jaime, the Kingsguard knight was wounded by the shoulder and had the part covered by cloth, he otherwise seemed fine enough and was looking at Rickard with a reassuring look. Then he finally set his sights upon the most interesting person from the trio and the Person he attributed his life to, the little Prince Viserys who simply looked relieved to see him alive. It had always struck him curious as to why the boy had helped him, against his own father none the less, he didn't put much faith in the boy's grand speech in the Kingswood, spouting off about his father's madness. He believed it only slightly. Sure, the king was mad, that much was evident but it was not enough for a boy of nine namedays to simply leave his family on that basis. Furthermore, the boy's mature way of speaking and outlook set him on edge and downright frightened him. A boy so little was not supposed to do what he did. No boy that age was supposed to have the balls to set free 'rebels' and abscond with them all on his own. It just wasn't supposed to happen.

Thinking about such things strained his head and he pushed the thought aside to think on later.

He listened while his son regaled him about Ser Jaime's bravery and how he had showed up to save Brandon personally and later almost killed Marq Darry. Brandon seemed to have found respect for the knight while before he would trade barbs with him now, he seemed to have found a newfound respect for the lad.

The Ser too had came a long way from the arrogant and prideful behaviour he had shown back at King's Landing. Rickard knew the lad had squired during the time of the Kingswood Brotherhood but this was his first real fight as a knight and he had excelled. The experiences he had gone through seemed to have made him mature. Rickard was no great judge of character but he could at the very least tell that Western Knight looked far more humble than earlier. The trio talked with him for a while before they had to bade goodbye to provide him further rest. Brandon and surprisingly even Prince Viserys hugged him while Jaime gave a respectful nod before leaving.

He spent some time idling till the time for dinner arrived. Maester Vyman sent a lad along with a contraption that looked like a chair although it had little crude wheels at both sides of it which allowed him to move forward with the help of a servant pushing the chair. The brief shame that engulfed him of imagining himself being led out like a cripple throughout the hall faded at the thought of the discussions that will take place with Lord Tully.

The servant pushed the chair from behind as they went up the raised platform in the dining hall where the trout lord and his brother sat.

"Lord Rickard, come help yourself to some bread and stew", welcomed Lord Tully.

He accepted the gesture and sat down while Hoster made small talk. After indulging with Hoster about the weather around the Riverlands, he finally asked what he wanted to.

"Any news about Eddard, Lord Tully? "

Hoster hesitated a bit before replying, "Only rumours so far, he is said to have departed the Eyrie to gather banners in the North. "

Rickard felt relieved to hear the news before he spoke about something that hindered his thoughts, "Only rumours? I thought you were in close contact with Jon Arryn. "

Hoster looked a tad bit embarrassed now as he stuttered, "Well I... I-I wanted to but... "

It was the so far silent Blackfish that interrupted, "-What he wants to say is that he didn't wanted to get drawn into something he figured would fuck up the riverlands. "

He smiled further to quip more barbs,"My brother is adept at figuring out chivalrous acts that everyone can see under, he recently assigned me to be 'honor guard' to Ser Jaime while he makes his way back home, I reckon even a dumb person could see that all that bullshit is just a layer to makes sure Tywin Lannister is grateful and makes a match between his son and Lysa ", he finished by guffawing aloud while his brother glared at him, his face resembling the colour of his hair.

Rickard politely ate his food while the two brothers tried to keep their voices low while exchanging subtle barbs at each other.

"You don't disparage your brother in front of your guests. "

"I was just being frank, northerners love it that way"

"Why do you have to be the black sheep of the family. "

"For nothing am I called the Blackfish eh? I am so glad you finally recognized my title publicly."

In any other normal circumstance, Rickard would had doubled over in laughter, even now his mouth was twitching a bit as he was containing his humor. He had far better and important things to ask of them. And so he interrupted their bickering.

"Lord Hoster... I mean to go back to the north."

"My lord? ", He appeared blank for a while before his and his brother expressions went serious again.

"You would surely not deny me travel back to my home, my lord, I am truly thankful for your help but it is time the North must be properly assembled. There is a big war coming and I can feel it, the North shouldn't be left unprepared. "

Hoster hesitated before replying, "Returning to your home is entirely plausible my lord, but my daughter Cat, I can't delay her marriage any longer, her betrothed was almost lost to her and I wouldn't extend it any further."

Rickard mulled over it for some time before declaring, "Alright then, the marriage happens tomorrow, a short ceremony would do for me."

"Tomorrow? ", Hoster appeared surprised, "Bannermen need to be invited and.. "

"No Hoster, as Rickard says almost everyone in Westeros can feel a damned war coming, our men would prefer preparing themselves then wasting time at a wedding. There would time for pomp later. "

Hoster took some time to reply before finally deciding that he was fine with the proposal. A short ceremony could arranged by the next day's afternoon and a few nearby lords could be invited.

The mood of the table relaxed once that big matter went out of the way. Ser Brynden asked him about his escapade from King's Landing and he indulged them. They came to the matter of Prince Viserys, a person that now intrigued all three of them. Hoster appeared deep in thought as he exclaimed, "What an interesting little person, an almost unbelievable story, I wonder what could we do about him. "

"Make him king perhaps",wondered Ser Brynden which got the attention of the other men who sat up straighter. Hoster appeared worried.

"That would not do, it would be another Dance of the Dragons, the damage would be irreparable. "

"And yet we don't have a better option, the King is mad and his first son is madder than him by the looks of it. Viserys is young and has shown far more virtue and honour in the last few days than his father and brother have done in their lives so far. Think about it Hoster, your Bannermen wouldn't even contest the decision so much if you back a Targaryen in rebellion than a Blackfyre or someone entirely else", Rickard exclaimed.

"Are you sure about the Boy's sanity. "

"As sure as I can be"

"Then we declare him king-", uttered Ser Brynden before Hoster intervened.

"Not so quickly now, among the three of us, he is king already but we shan't declare it till we confer with Arryn and Lannister. "

He agreed with Hoster, "Aye, you have a point."

They continued on putting on some final touches to their delicate plan till time came for saying goodbye.

XXXX

He made his way towards the sparring yard to enjoy some air and decided he wouldn't shame himself further sitting in this contraption. The servant hesitated a bit but a firm look sent him in his way while Rickard took a cane to support a himself.

He was the Lord Paramount of the North. The Stark of the North. It just wouldn't do for him going about like a cripple. So he struggled and half crawled his way to the yard and was surprised to see Brandon sitting alone on a lone bench. His son stood up to support him but Rickard wouldn't have any of that. They both sat down and Rickard made to break the news to him.

"Brandon"

"Hm? "

"You would be married to Catelyn tomorrow. "

His son sighed before replying, "Alright. "

His reaction shocked Rickard who expected some fightback. His son probably figured out his expression and made to explain.

"I have been such an immature lad. It was my stupidness that resulted in all the mess I fell in at the capital. My friends died for the sole crime of believing me. It's hard to forget father and it will haunt me for the rest of my life that my actions resulted in the death of my dear friends. Everything appeared so different after our journey after the escape. That was real life right there. Everything I did before was plain stupid and I have realized it now. "

As Rickard looked on, Brandon continued, "I don't love Catelyn, but I'll do my duty father, she seems to be a good woman and I will try everything I can to put effort in this marriage."

Rickard felt a sudden wave of pride engulfed him. He never expected his son to change so quickly. His rebelliousness was always a flaw of his and one thing he worried about the most about his son.

Brandon wondered aloud,"I just want to go back to the happy times father, the whole family sitting together at supper in the great hall, all of us living happily again. Catelyn too along with us this time."

He put an arm around his son's shoulder before holding him close.

"Perhaps we may see it actually happen. "

He couldn't help himself realising the fact that this was simply the few blissful moments of calm before the disastrous storm. He could only hope that they'd be on the less affected side of it.

 ** _Xxxxxx_** ** _Thanks for reading and do review._**


	9. ARTHUR I, MACE I

ARTHUR

Sunspear was beautiful in it's own way. As he entered through the gate he could see the shadow city lurking inside. The closest thing to a true city that the Dornishmen had, the shadow city was no more than a queer, dusty town to those north of Dorne although to Arthur it held a special mysterious, alluring charm of its own, reflecting the nature of Dorne's people in it's every fragment. The city was a labyrinth of narrow alleys, homes, and bazaars. Sunspear was a walled settlement, protected by three massive Winding Walls, encircling one another and containing miles of narrow alleys, hidden courts, and noisy bazaars. He entered through the main entrance of the castle gates and was led to the court of Doran Martell who was surprisingly astonished to see him here. Arthur had dressed in common man clothes, it would've had simply been absurd to come here in his Kingsguard armor with the sigil of the house proudly adorned on his breastplate. A sigil not favored much currently in the city. He had taken care not to draw unwanted attention to himself as the Dornish people were infamous for their temper.

It seemed that for all his efforts at concealing himself, Prince Doran had his city well drilled as Arthur found himself escorted to a room immediately after entering Sunspear. After that he was 'kindly' requested to 'stay as a guest' till the Prince called on him. It was well into Dawn by the time he was led to the solar to find both Prince's Doran and Oberyn occupying the room. Arthur stood awkwardly for a while as neither men said nothing as they stared at him. Doran had a steely gaze in his eyes, while Oberyn altered between staring at Arthur furiously and then fiddling in his seat in frustration while keeping a goblet of untouched Red at his table. It made Arthur realise that the younger prince was not all too comfortable with sitting and talking. Which was not all that much a surprise. Oberyn had always been the fiery one as Arthur well knew. He and Ashara, like many other noble Dornish children his age were forced by their parents to spend time in the Water Gardens getting to know the Prince and the Princess. Doran was fairly old by the time Arthur came to the water gardens. He had went to Essos to travel and whatever Arthur knew about him was mostly by reputation. Still, there was a grim determination to the prince's eyes, a strange ailment had started to grow on his legs, it pained him most certainly but did nothing to deter the steel in his eyes. Oberyn meanwhile was the complete opposite and had lived a life of opulence, Arthur disliked him somewhat, the second prince was hedonistic in nature cared little for how his actions affected others. He was fiery, flickering anger to Doran's patient determination and also, infamously lewd and perverted. Oberyn Martell was mayhaps everything the Westerosi hated in a Dornishman. Such generalization hurt Arthur sometimes, there were honorable, humble Dornishmen other than the stereotyped lewd and cunning. His thoughts then diverted to sweet Elia, who if asked, he would publicly deny he felt anything for, but deep down something stirred inside him, something warm, whenever he thought of her. She was soft, weak and not even particularly beautiful but she was also kind, not fierce but determined, much like Doran, considering she had come alive out of two wrecking childbirths. Before he could dwell more on Elia though, Doran brought him out of his reverie by announcing, "Ser Arthur, I wish I could say I am pleased to see you, but the actions of the family you protect have dismayed Dorne itself. To what may I ask brings you here? "

Arthur waited a heartbeat before uttering everything he knew so far, of Lord Stark's trail, of their vile abduction of Prince Viserys, of their suspected intention of using him as a puppet for their own machinations, of Prince Rhaegar's bid to rise against his father and he almost spluttered about Lyanna but controlled himself.

Doran mulled over his words while Oberyn looked at him curiously, "You would betray your king over his son? "

"Prince Rhaegar will be a better king than his Father", he said his rehearsed lines word for word but he had started doubting whether Rhaegar was really worth it all, was he even a good man let alone a good king. The things he was doing to lady Lyanna were beyond despicable and yet Arthur would raise his banner for him, not out of duty though, that value would had meant him still staying by Aerys's side. But if not for Rhaegar there was simply nowhere to go. He had exchanged his life for his oaths and he wouldn't dishonour them and become the first Sword of the Morning to do so.

Doran leant forward, "Answer me Ser, I find it extremely curious how you were able to make your way here without my notice, to make way for the capital so fast and not to say of your disguise which was laughable. Had you made your way through the Boneway I would have had known, the only way I couldn't have had known was if you were inside Dorne for some time-'

Arthur sucked a nervous breath as Oberyn leant forward too.

' Tell me, what in the Seven hells have you been doing in Dorne of all places for so long, surely not to visit Starfall, in such a case the king would had notified me as the Lord Paramount of a kingdom about a Kingsguard visiting his region, it is done to grant you immunity from crimes as you're a Kingsman, but I received no such raven so you can understand I'm fairly curious about this matter."

Arthur felt uneasy, he should've covered his tracks better now he found himself at a road with no end, he couldn't lie to the Prince of Dorne, that would look bad on House Dayne should the Prince probe it further. So he took a deep sigh and told them unflinchingly -

"Prince Rhaegar married Lady Lyanna and annulled his marriage to Princess Elia, the newly made Princess rests in Dorne-"

Before he could even finish his sentence the aforementioned goblet of Red was thrown in his direction which he deftly dodged with ease, he sensed chairs being pushed back and fists banging on tables, swords of the guardsmen to were out in alarm as he finished his words -

"and prepared to birth a new child for Rhaegar. "

He felt Oberyn bellow out in rage, come near him and raise him by the collar while screaming in rage.

"He dares! He dares coming here and uttering that drivel, expecting us to raise banners for that silver bastard after what he did to Elia. "

"You would release him Oberyn. "

"Do you have no care for Elia! That Bastard humiliated her, we must kill this traitor here and now! "

"You would release him if you care about Elia", Doran intoned, "How do you think the King will react if he hears we manhandled his protector, especially with Elia in his custody. "

But the angry prince held on for a few more moments before shoving Arthur to the ground. Arthur could've finished Oberyn then and there but his worry about the aftermath of his family held him back, he saw Doran clutching Oberyn and fiercely whispering to him. He had never seen Doran so angry and yet he made the mistake of asking, "Would Prince Rhaegar expect your support, my Prince? "

Clutching the edges of his table, Doran raised himself painfully and growled out, "Tell the Silver Bastard that he will have no spear of Dorne, till him instead that we will rise for his father and Aegon because that's all Dorne cares for, now begone from my sight and go serve that fool! "

And so Arthur raised himself and strode away, ignoring the glares coming from all sides, somewhat relieved even though he heard Oberyn incredulously asking as to why he was let away freely. He didn't wait to hear Doran's response. He had failed in his duty and if not for Rhaegar at least he could try to protect Lyanna now.

XXXX

MACE

Everyone thought him a dullard. Oh they praised him plenty, they knew their livelihood depended on the Lord of Highgarden's. Unfortunately for him even his own mother would constantly chide him for being a fool. But he was not, if only she knew how much Mace worked for House Tyrell's growth, Growing Strong indeed. He could only sigh and forget about her barbs, she was his mother after all, men like Tywin Lannister would've become grateful kinslayers if they had a mother like that. But the ever patient Mace shrugged her insults and kept loving her. Always trying to convince her about his brilliant ideas, as he was now, and yet she was reluctant.

"This is folly"

He sighed, "Mother! We would never have another chance like this, who knows, if we win this game, Janna and Mina could even be Dragon brides."

It had so happened that on a sunny bright day, Ser Gerold Hightower had chanced upon Highgarden. He came from the south which put his Mother into some confusion but Mace shrugged it off, perhaps the legendary ser just had to see a few sights, which is why he came all the way round Dorne. He was gushing immensely when the Ser came striding in Court but the knight seemed of other mind, instead asking about some alliance and some other words that Mace drowned out. You see it hurt his head hearing about such things, he wasn't a dullard, he just wasn't interested in ruling. He still remembered the bad memory the day when he had drawn that beautiful rendition of Highgarden, he had wanted to ply that same trade for his whole life, but his mother had laughed it off the next day and his dreams had gone down the drains like that. Now he hoped to earn some glory on the battlefield in future wars, some way to make Mother proud.

He longed for the day he would strode in into the hall and Mother would look at him pridefully regaling his illustrious deeds to her friends, that would a day to dream off, but presently he was brought back to attention by a slap on his head by the same women, in front of his wife and children and even Ser Gerold nonetheless! Oh Mother! Why would she insult him so again and again!

Ah! Then he remembered Ser Gerold's intent to visit. The silver prince Rhaegar Targaryen had wanted to raise his banners against his father and become king faster than he eventually could be, it mattered little to Mace considering Janna, Mina or even a daughter of his could become a Targaryen bride in the future. And that would be his masterstroke, his armies for more power.

Of course his mother had to ruin it.

"This is treason! I can't believe a Knight of the Kingsguard himself is advocating people to rise against his king!"

Oh no she would ruin everything again, he leant close to his mother, "This is our chance Mother, why not take it?"

"A chance, at what? Fighting against all the rest of the kingdoms? No one will fight for Rhaegar you fool. Don't commit this folly."

The dinner ended and a decision was made with Lady Olenna sadder by the end of it. Ser Gerold went packing back south noticeably more happier.

In the morning he kissed his mother in greeting even as she spoke of doom and destruction for the Tyrells and more insults for him. He would love her still, she was his mother after all.

When the Maester came as requested, Mace promptly told him to call the banners.

The Rose would grow strong, and Mother would be proud.

He hoped.

XXXX

ARTHUR

The last thing Arthur remembered before losing consciousness was riding through a rough road back to the Tower of Joy, back to the grim duty he had come to despise. He was slightly sleepy but long hours of Kingsguard duty had reined in at least some restraint. And then he heard sudden hooves of at least two dozen sand steeds. Remembering about it now, he blamed his sleepiness. He should've known the vipers wouldn't just let him leave like that, if he had been aware he would had even sensed them following but now was not the time to dally, he turned his steed around to face the first man who he swung dawn at, the first kill raised a shield in defense but it wouldn't stand the might of Dawn and the man was put down, the second prey came and was killed too, then the third and fourth and so on. When Arthur started killing, the flow inside him just wouldn't stop, it went on and on, and he went swiftly dodging spear thrusts and lance pierces as he cut through the men till he he was cornered by three men from all sides who were all formidable, he killed the one to his right, then the one to his left, it was too easy but then he felt his moments slow, such things would only happen if cut with poison.

Poison.

Oberyn.

As he came to the conclusion he also realised he was now swinging Dawn comically slow and the man he presumed most likely to be the Prince slammed the butt of his spear to his head to land him in his current state.

As he groggily tried to refocus as he heard voices,

"Cut through 12 of our men m'prince.. Should kill him..."

" We brought two dozen m'prince only half remain because of the scoundrel, let the traitor die screaming"

"No', cut through an aristocratic voice, 'we need him yet"

A sharp slap rang through his ears as his tired eyes awoke to see a maliciously smiling Prince Oberyn.

"What do you want", Arthur found himself rasping.

"You see me and Doran had a brief discussion, the annulment you mentioned between Elia and Rhaegar cannot happen, Aegon must be king and for that we must have a better ground to negotiate on, Lyanna Stark sounds like a great bargain piece don't you agree?", spoke the Prince.

" You will never get her through me. "

The prince smirked," Then I suppose the inhabitants of High Hermitage will be happy to settle in Starfall. Quite sad for the family to fall on your indecision. Choose Ser Arthur, Family or Duty, I'd choose the former any day.

Artur eventually made that hard decision, one which would he did to save someone and inevitably condemn someone else to the seven hells. He was not a Knight anymore. A traitor was all he was now, forsaking duty for family.

XXXXXX


	10. DENYS I, JON II

Chapter 10

SIEGE OF GULLTOWN PART 1

 _"War is delightful to those who have had no experience of it."_

DENYS

The battlefield rang with familiar noises, noises of people dying, screaming and yelling and then there were the occasional victory yells. He was so tired. It had all went wrong very very quickly but such was life as Uncle Jon used to remind him, one moment it's sunshine and rainbows the next it's all gone to crap. The smell of blood stung his nose, he had a fair bit of it on himself as he tried to rise, his eyes greeted him with vivid images of living hell.

"Denys!"

It was Martyn, a man at arms back at the Eyrie, he was running around like a fool, as Denys's eyes adjusted to his vision, he was greeted with the grotesque sight of a broken man searching for his dismembered hand, blood was pouring out of the cut, but Martyn seemed in a mad daze.

"M-martyn?"

"D-did you see my hand Denys, my hand, I'm searching for my hand! I can't fight without a hand, please someone find me my hand!", and he trod off ahead of Denys soon disappearing to nowhere.

Denys pushed himself up and looked around to see Arryn men at arms all around, some with their limbs cut, some with necks slit, some headless corpses lying around, he even saw a poor man trying to put his entrails back into his stomach in a desperate, almost mad bid to survive. He felt bile rise through his throat but somehow managed to not throw up, it wouldn't do for him to show weakness, he was one of the commanders of the left flank, or whatever remained of it. He stood straight up and limped around trying to locate Uncle Jon, surely he must be safe, some brave knight must have brought him back to-

"SER DENYS!"

Thankfully this time it was no broken man, it was a familiar ser he'd known to be in Uncle Jon's retinue. He couldn't remember his name though it didn't deter the knight to come near him and speak,

"We need to retreat Ser, it's a crisis, Lord Jon's down!"

Surely he must be japing, Uncle can't go down, how will Robert go south? What will be the point of rebellion if one of the main leaders dies before it even starts.

If only Corbray hadn't betrayed them. It was going well for us till those blasted loyalists hit our flank from the east. It had all gone to shit after that.

"T-tell me more, Ser", he despaired.

"The bastard Corbray battled with Lord Jon, I was sent back to bring Lord Royce in for back up, the Waynwoods were completely fucked in the center so we couldn't go there, by the time we came back, Lord Jon was down and heavily bleeding, and the bastard had gone disappeared to the seven hells."

It was an effective strategy, he had to give them that much. The rebels had started storming the Grafton walls on the first day and they had easily attained victory, it was easy though, Arryn, Waynwood Royce against the lone Graftons was very very easy. It was after they'd stormed to ransack Gulltown had the Corbray skirmishers hit them on the left. The force was split with the Royce's on the right and the Waynwoods on the center. 3000 Arryns, 2000 Waynwoods and 1000 Royces hastily gathered against 2000 Graftons would had been a no contest if not for the 3000 Corbrays suddenly rushing in. He'd even heard the Arryns of Gulltown joining the loyalist faction. Oh what a shame on the honour of the Arryn name! Uncle Jon was always right to shun them. They'd still had the numbers but the Loyalists had the quality. The Waynwoods weren't able to gather their knights for a quick call and had to be forced to gather levies who'd been trained for barely half a month, the Royce's were better trained but they'd been tired as they were hastily gathered. Only the Arryns had an ample number of knights with them and now most of them had been sent to the Stranger.

"Grafton came out of his keep with all of his 3000 men and the Waynwood peasants couldn't hold, the center is gone, Lord Yohn tried to help but the scoundrel Corbray had ran from the left to appear on the right flank, they're holding but not for long, according to Lord Yohn, we must retreat Ser Denys! There is simply no other option."

I had considered refusing but as the lone knight half dragged me to a hastily constructed tent where a maester sat attending my Uncle, I had no choice, as he had warned but to reconsider.

It had all gone to shit far too quickly.

XXXX

3 DAYS EARLIER

JON

"No you will not accompany me Robert and my word is final."

I looked over to my increasingly irate black haired foster son as he nearly started yelling.

"Let me have my first battle at least! I wouldn't disappoint you, I swear, by the Seven, I do."

I sighed."I don't doubt it my boy, but you are far too valuable to risk on a battlefield, Grafton will fall within no time, then you'll go back to the Stormlands and raise your banner for Young Viserys."

The almost grown man reddened further and it took quite a few more words to quite him down but Jon succeeded finally and in no time he was heading with his Waynwood banners and Arryn banners to Gulltown.

He made some small talk with Lord Waynwood on the way to Runestone where they would link up with the Royce men.

The lord looked apologetic when he spoke to Jon, "Forgive me my lord, but the sudden call meant I wasn't able to gather as many knights as I would have liked. At best we tried to train some peasant levies over a fortnight but they'll fight hard and true. They're none men braver than green men", he chuckled.

Jon wondered if they'd have to deal with half as many broken men by the end of this battle. Desire of glory in youth was good and all, but there was no doubt that despite their numbers, the Waynwood's would have the weakest host in the army. He hoped Yohn Royce would whip up some tough men, the Rune Lords had a reputation for making tough warriors out of green boys, constantly warring with the mountain clans and bandits.

He turned to his nephew and heir, after Elbert's unjust death, Ser Denys Arryn who would face his first major battle. The boy had a facade of bravery on his face but Jon had no doubt he was all nervous inside. Denys had a newly wed wife and while they had no child yet he didn't think Denys would be as unlucky as him. He hoped Denys would come out safely through this, not that he expected Grafton to put much of a fight.

"How are you holding up nephew?"

"Just fine uncle, although the prospect of killing so many men at once daunts me somewhat, if Iron and Oak don't protect me till the end, I might be doomed to the seven hells!"

'And House Arryn with it', thought Jon dreadfully, there were not many Arryns remaining anymore.

"Uncle", intoned Denys with a serious note, "Why is Lord Grafton raising his banners when we are fighting for a Targaryen?"

"Ah, but it's not the Targaryen he likes, the south has spread some vile rumours about Lord Stark kidnapping the Prince and what not, he choose to support his king over me, and he will go down for it."

There would be no mercy for traitors.

"But aren't we the traitors, if we do not support the King, I think Lord Grafton and his allies are good men, people who think they are fighting for their king always are."

Jon suddenly went stiff and swiftly looked around if anyone had heard the words coming out of Denys's mouth, thankfully there was no one significant around them. Then he angrily swerved his destrier towards Denys and furiously whispered,"You will not utter such words in the company of our banners! What you are implying is outright treason to Viserys, we have chosen a side and we will stick to it."

Denys had a sudden surge of courage as he whispered back,"We had no reason to rebel, Ned and Robert may be brotherly to me but they are no kin of mine and yours, I think it's unwise to put House Arryn on line for them!"

Jon gave him a angry glare,"You will shut your blasphemy nephew, you know nothing of what you're talking about."

And he did really know nothing, but Jon knew, he experienced and seethed, plotted and finally he was getting to the executing after such a long wait. The Northern part of Westeros was largely ignored by the Targaryens and not respected either, he had witnessed it firsthand when we he was as little as Prince Viserys and he and his father had went to the Capital on a random visit to pay tribute to King Aegon V.

He was a good king, the 'Unlikely', but it seemed prejudice was rooted deep in the southerners. His father was a brilliant man and had brilliant ideas, ideas that would had changed the Vale's economy completely, it would've found a solution to their major problems and the made the region peaceful and rich. But the King and his bunch of small council losers had laughed him off, his father's confidence greatly waned by that shaming and never quite got around to implementing his measures, but Jon couldn't let it go, Aegon eventually paid for his life in the usual Targaryen folly and he thought things would get better but they only got worse. Intellectual people like him had always thought the Dragons were unsuitable rulers for Westeros, far too many of them thought themselves above the law and ruled the massive country on their whims and moods, Jon wondered whether it was the few hard working Hands who had kept the country going through the last century. Then had come the umpteenth Blackfyre Rebellion and he thought perhaps if he could put the Vale's efforts into the war they could get a few rewards out of it. The war ended, Jon and his entourage of brave Valemen came back victorious to nothing but empty compliments and a few crates of gold.

Again he seethed but this time he swore revenge.

There were two kinds of men who would exact revenge in their own ways, there were men like Tywin Lannister with their brutal bloody and quick ways to end conflicts but Jon simply wasn't the person for too much bloodshed and unnecessary cruelty, no, he would plot and plot till he found an opening to exploit and then he would pounce like a ruthless falcon upon the wingless dragons. And he did plot successfully for several years, quickly forging bonds with Hoster Tully and Rickard Stark his two immediate Northern neighbors. A stroke of luck had him see Steffon Baratheon's son coming north as well. It was the only time Jon had struck a stone into a dark well and hoped to strike gold, it was a reckless move and he would never attempt such again. But he never regretted Young Robert coming north nor Eddard. Throughout all his plotting some things didn't go according to the plan. He could never have any children, there was no problem with his dead wives but he suspected he was infertile. He would never say so in public though , which proud Valemen would say such unmanly things? He had no regrets about that either, Robert and Ned were like the sons he had never had and he had plenty of nephews to make heirs off.

And then the Mad king had made his move and Elbert was dead, now only Denys remained although one of his sisters with the Waynwoods was with child, he had no idea whether it would be a boy or a girl, the Eyrie couldn't be given to a girl, the chivalrous knight would go red with fury at that and make the region unstable. Even with all this recent tragedies Prince Viserys's and Lord Stark's moves had completely changed the game. He didn't like Targaryens aye, but perhaps he could make a good king out of the young boy. Seven knows, what with the boy had done so far, he might have been the most decent Targaryen he had met in a long while.

XXXX

1 DAY LATER

GULLTOWN

JON

Gulltown was a fine place. The one real city of the Vale. It was such a pity that at least half of it will be reduced to cinders in the near future. And it was all the fault of one man who choose the wrong side. The one whom Jon and Lord's Waynwood and Royce would soon parley with.

They had stopped on the way to Runestone to join with a thousand Royce forces and then headed south to Gulltown. Lord Royce had requested Jon to let one of his nephews squire for him and Jon didn't deny him, Walter Royce seemed a fine lad and obedient too he would make a brave knight. Everything was going good till the morning of their departure when they received a raven from the Eyrie. Lord Corbray had decided to side with Aerys. That was expected with the man being on the small council, he was obligated to support the King. He sent a raven in return to House Melcolm of Old Anchor to stop any such advance of the Corbray's. He also sent a raven to the Redfort's to the assist the Melcoms in their defence. No doubt they will finish their business in Gulltown and then go and crush the Corbray's. But that wasn't the worst thing yet. It was the news that stubborn young Robert had gathered whatever able spare men remaining

at Eyrie, barely 500 and marched to Gulltown under the pretense of the helping with the Corbray's march and what not. Jon cursed internally upon hearing that. The boy was far too valuable to be risked on the battlefield. His being alive guaranteed the Stormlands coming over to their side. He hoped he would have enough to time to stop Robert from committing some stupid folly by the time they reached here.

"My lord, Graftons approaching."

Jon was brought out of his musings with the enemy forces arriving with a convoy of five men as had been agreed. Marq Grafton looked at them with disgust before bringing his courser closer to them. He spoke before Jon could start the parley.

"Traitors! Welcome to Gulltown, I can guarantee guest right if you throw down your arms and let yourself be peacefully escorted to the Capital for the King's Justice."

Jon contained a snort threatening to burst out of him. That would had ended the parley right there, although Lord Royce showed no such caution while Waynwood looked on astounded and exclaimed,"I can't believe how delusional you can be my lord, we have twice as much the men you have and thrice as many supplies, surely you would see some sense and come back to our side, there's no need for conflict."

Grafton sneered back,"Side with whom, friends of child abductors and honorless savages, I think I would gladly pass on the offer."

The rest was parley wasn't significant. Jon and his party tried to convince him out of his folly and the fool kept insulting. It was after one such insult that he abruptly turned around and left without a parting warning. The other Lords with him just shrugged and went back to our tents.

In the morning, we scaled Gulltown and the siege begun.

XXXXX


	11. DENYS II, ROBERT I

SIEGE OF GULLTOWN PART 2

DENYS

Uncle Jon was huddled around the table with the Lords Royce Waynwood alongside several other prominent landed knights and respected warriors. The makeshift war council was actively discussing their actions as Lord Royce's booming voice sung, "We should storm the walls my lord, they have lesser men than us and Gulltown barely has sufficient defenses."

Royce was true, the Gulltown walls were built to protect from mountain men attacks, not from their own liege lord's army and it made sense considering he would've never believed it a moon ago if someone had said Lord Arryn was marching on Gulltown. Denys sighed, it was somewhat of a shame that the Arryns didn't command absolute loyalty over their domain unlike Ned's homeland even after several centuries of Arryn rule. Corbray and Graftons turned out to be Dragon lovers.

"And what would we do if Corbray comes down on us from the North", lamented Lord Waynwood.

His Uncle's voice reverberated throughout the tent, firmly," He won't, a raven has been sent to House Melcom, they will stop his charge, I've also sent a rider to the Redfort to provide them reinforcements. We can trust the Melcoms, they have been leal bannermen for a long time."

Uncle Jon had the presence about him of a man who was raised from the birth to command. His final note was enough for the Lords to understand that was the end of the conversation.

They would storm Gulltown tomorrow.

XXXXX

They started the siege early morning on the next day. Siege machinery wasn't brought as it was a hastily prepared army, but Uncle Jon didn't think trebuchets and such were particularly needed. Grafton barely had 3000 men, a third of them were ill-trained levies taken from the town itself. The more professional trained men at arms and knights were most likely guarding the nobility while a few were commanding over the walls. Gulltown's walls were vast and it was reckoned by the war council that storming the walls would be easy, to drown out the enemy in their superior numbers. Gulltown wasn't to be sacked though. Jon declared that the last thing they needed was for the Vale's richest fief to be impoverished, by their own hands nonetheless. The plan was to storm the walls, overwhelm the levies, garrison around the city, encircling the Lord's Keep in the middle and lay siege to it. It wouldn't take long for Grafton to break after that.

XXXXXX

They were beyond the walls now. Yet it wasn't fulfilling. Somehow it felt too easy.

The kind of easy that was deceitful.

It was a mockery of a battle, a slaughter more like. Denys didn't know how Lord Grafton's mind worked, although he simply couldn't wrap his mind around giving up the walls so weakly. The loyalist lord had put barely trained recently conscripted men on the walls. He and Martyn, one of the Arryn men had scaled the walls first. One of those Grafton men came at them holding a spear awkwardly, poor bastard couldn't even wield it and Martyn ended him before he could throw it at Denys. The problem was that person wasn't the only awkward levy that they had come across, the whole damn city walls were manned by barely conscripted men. It was a bloody slaughter. Besides a few hitches during the early moments of trying to scale the city walls, most of the siege had went flawlessly, perhaps too flawlessly. And however much he emphasised that part to Uncle Jon, he just wouldn't take it seriously.

"It's alright Denys, no need to be so paranoid."

"I am not, Uncle, why don't you find it interesting that Lord Grafton chose to enclose himself inside his castle with his best men, numbering about a 1000 and leave barely 100 on the walls."

A booming voice cut in,"Because Grafton's a bloody idiot, he was one before the Rebellion and he is one now", said Lord Royce, a huge horn of ale in his hands,"Tis time to cheer young Ser!"

Denys grimaced. The lord didn't realize the fact that treachery was afoot, not that Denys expected him to realize that, his heir Yohn was more sensible, perhaps -

"Take rest, Denys", intoned Uncle Jon,"You clearly have stressed a lot on this."

Denys made to interrupt, how could they not see how dubious this victory was,"But-"

Uncle Jon grimaced,"This is an order Denys, sleep well and perhaps tomorrow you'll not see shadows and deceit everywhere you look."

What could he have done in face of that order so he made his way back to his tent, hearing Lord Royce's booming self chuckling as he made his way out.

He wished he could have had persuaded his Uncle more.

He did wake up, but not in the day but rather to midnight.

He woke too blood curling screams and cries of agony.

XXXX

ROBERT

Jon will be pissed at him. He knew that. And yet he would defy him. There was no way Robert Baratheon was to be kept from battle. Smashing his hammer into someone's chest, crushing that poor fool... Ah! That sensation was simply amazing.

And so he found himself down the way to Gulltown, with a group of his friends and other hedge knights, a ragtag bunch, but a ragtag bunch of 800 it was. Old Nestor had grumbled on about the logistics of feeding all of them and the extra costs but Robert convinced him to let him go. It was easy for Robert to convince people. Everyone liked him especially Ladies!

If only Lyanna would look at him like the other lasses. It was a part of why he liked her so much, she was a conquest, a conquest that was taken away from him, one he would claim back at any cost. Part of the reason he was making his way to the port, fight those damned Graftons, go to Storm's End and wait till he could sink his Warhammer in that silver bastards -

"My lord!"

Hm.. It was one of his newly made friends calling out to him. A hedge knight, but a damn good drinker.

"Theo?"

"Banners down the road my lord, they look beaten and exhausted."

"Sigil?"

Theo squinted,"A.. Red castle my lord."

"Hm. House Redfort."

What the fuck where the Redforts doing here.

The man at leading the small army came ahead towards them looking haggard and exhausted. Robert recognized the leader, it was Lord Horton Redfort.

"Horton, is-is that you?"

The man raised his tired gaze towards him and exclaimed,"Robert..didn't expect to see you here, not that I would deny your help, we need all we can get currently."

"What happened?", inquired Robert.

"Lord Jon gave us a duty, to assist the Melcoms in resisting any potential attack from the Corbrays, who are in the loyalists camp. The orders were sudden and I rode out as fast as I could with barely 500 men with me.'

'We arrived near the Melcolm castle a day past, expecting them to welcome us with open hands which they did. They opened their doors for us, me and my nearly 500 men made our way inside. They offered us bread and then they betrayed us, Robert. They closed the castle portcullis and when we were at ease, making merry inside the castle, the Corbray.. Back the I wondered how the crept in unnoticed, the only way that could happen was for the Melcoms to betray us. It was a bloody battle and if not for a few brave men I wouldn't be standing here besides you, I have barely a hundred men left now with no means to fight back we retreated. The Corbrays and the Melcoms have made their way south."

"Where are they making their way to?" ventured Robert.

Lord Horton grimaced,"Gulltown. The loyalists are smart. You'd think they'd be foolish to hope for victory with so few men and allies but they aim for a swift attack and end Lord Jon in Gulltown itself. The Arryns have been Targaryen men for a long time, and most of their bannermen only became rebels due to Lord Arryn's influence. With his death the tide could turn swiftly. I suppose most of our men at Gulltown are barely trained levy. They wouldn't know what hit them,and before they know it they'll be dead",he finished.

Robert felt a deep embrace of fear creep in, as if he already knew the answer but wanted to deny it till he heard from someone else.

Oh Jon.


End file.
